COLUMN: Ingredients of community

From Dina Bass', "No Loss for Words," Fall '99 From Dina Bass', "No Loss for Words," Fall '99An ode to Butcher-Speakman-Class of '28. Amidst all this talk of College Houses, renovations to the dorms, RAs, GAs, house deans, faculty in residence and faculty masters, part of me longs for the simpler age of my freshman house: BS-'28. Yes, I dare to call it a house, this pre-college house incarnation of residential living, even though it lacked the house trips and house council and, most of all, the designation of "college house." But for thousands of freshman, BS-'28 was home. So it was with avid interest that I read last week that the Quad would again reorganize after renovations in the fall of 2003. Hoping for the return of my old house, I soon learned that the storied Quadrangle would become three houses rather than four. And BS-'28 will be divided between two of the new houses. Admittedly, house designations are a recent thing. Quad residents used to identify where they lived by building, for example, Morgan, Coxe and New York Alumni. But BS-'28, in its short time on earth, managed to develop quite a house identity, while vastly improving the "freshmen experience" of many students. Not everyone was as lucky as I was to have that kind of experience without the official college house stamp. And overall, the college house plan has many good points and an admirable goal of forging a friendlier, more communal residential experience. Still, my freshman house has fallen by the wayside. BS-'28 was famous for many things, not all of them good. When my roommate and I moved in, a helpful upperclassman explained our dorm to us: "Oh, BS-'28 -- that's like football players, low grades and beer/vomit mixture on the floor all the time. But it's a really friendly dorm," he added helpfully, after scaring both of our moms out of their wits about the evil pit of iniquity their daughters were descending into. Actually, my floor had no football players and produced several honors students and one Thouron scholar. The beer/vomit part turned out to be true but it was usually left by visitors to our floor attracted by the fact that we were the only first floor women's bathroom in the Quad with no lock on the door. More importantly, the people on my floor were really friendly, which for me really eased my transition into college life. For reasons that I cannot apprehend, in addition to its famously disproportionate number of athletes, BS-'28 always had a large number of really outgoing, social freshmen. The doors in our house were always open, often until at least 2 a.m., creating an atmosphere where anyone walking by felt comfortable coming in to tell you about their night out or ask advice about their latest personal problem. Any "major" decision from selecting a class to selecting a date for a party was a communal activity on my hall. We supported each other through first drinking experiences, midterms, rush and tryouts for a host of a cappella and theater groups. Of course, not everyone got along, and as we found our individual groups of friends, the hall hung out as a group less and less. But in those crucial first few months of freshmen year, the friendly atmosphere made all the difference. Additionally, despite the new friends, there were still those late nights on the hall when we all spent time together. At the end of the year, some hallmates stayed in touch and some didn't, but overall this type of communal experience is precisely the one the college house system hopes to forge. In the valiant attempt to create communities in houses, one thing ought not be forgotten by residential planners and, most importantly, by the students who make up the houses. Sometimes, all the house activities, trips and residential staff aren't what makes a house. Sometimes all it takes is friendly neighbors and open doors.